


unstoppable force / immovable object

by Nomette



Series: elekdei master collection [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bloodplay, Extremely Dubious Consent, Knifeplay, Other, Rough Sex, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:00:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28950795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nomette/pseuds/Nomette
Summary: The first time Elekti encounters that hunter, he’s nothing but a toy, a silhouette in the window, a shadow come and gone in flight. They don't think about him. What is there to think about? ( A mouth that tasted like blood, the point of a knife in her ribcage, a cool flat voice, an immovable courage and poise.) Nothing special. You can’t toss a beer bottle in the underground city without hitting someone who thinks they’re cool.The second time Elekti encounters the hunter, he finds them.
Relationships: Elekti Raicoh/ Iandei Kurosade
Series: elekdei master collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2123436
Kudos: 8





	unstoppable force / immovable object

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pH5_4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pH5_4/gifts).



> MIND THE CONTENT WARNINGS, I AM SO SERIOUS. 
> 
> As always, Elekti and the setting belong to pH5_4, and idiot vampire hunter Iandei is mine.

The first time Elekti encounters that hunter, he’s nothing but a toy, a silhouette in the window, a shadow come and gone in flight. They don't think about him. What is there to think about? ( A mouth that tasted like blood, the point of a knife in her ribcage, a cool flat voice, an immovable courage and poise.) Nothing special. You can’t toss a beer bottle in the underground city without hitting someone who thinks they’re cool. 

The second time Elekti encounters the hunter, he finds them. 

It’s always night when Elekti ventures outside, and tonight the air is cold and heavy, thick with mist. Hydran’s sent her out with a list of manga to fetch, and Elekti’s never one to turn down an interesting errand. They’re in a good mood, and the darkness is complicated with shifting shadows but Elekti’s not scared, and what could be strong enough to threaten her-

The hunter announces himself with a knife. 

Elekti’s leg buckles, bleeding thick and sluggish down her side, body threatening to buckle entirely. All senses announce pain. The knife is buried to the hilt in her thigh, blade fully sheathed in flesh and bone. That’s how battle goes- a second of inattention is long enough for murder. She has to do the impossible just to run, scrabbling over logs and trees, screaming obscenities as she goes, collecting scrapes and bruises as she goes, running in the pause between knives, listening for the hum of air against metal-

She can’t claim he couldn’t have killed her, but Elekti lives. Bleeding, wounded, knives jutting from five places on her body, Elekti limps into the dayless city. 

The third time they meet, she breaks his arm. 

The fourth time, they roll in the mud of the world above until Elekti slams his skull into the ground and tastes his throat. He’s heavy under her, and when he groans at the feel of her mouth on him it’s the loudest sound she’s ever gotten out of him. 

The fifth time, Elekti’s hammer is elsewhere, and they have a fistfight on a wire high above the sleeping human city. He moves like a shadow, there and gone, feet finding the wires with unerring accuracy. He pins her to the wall with a knife through one wrist, and when they kiss, lightning flickers between the opposing poles of their bodies. Elekti’s never met a person so willing to be a lightning rod, but he doesn’t fight like a masochist, doesn’t fight to lose. He fights like a machine, but he tastes human. 

Elekti’s started to get familiar with his scent, and the faintest hint of it has them on guard, ready to duck and scramble, listening for the knives-

So maybe, just maybe, it’s possible that this is a thing. A little, small, tiny thing. A game that Elekti’s playing with this audacious, dangerous hunter, or maybe just a game that Elekti’s been playing with herself. She’ll kill him when she wants to. I’ll kill him when I want to, she thinks. Elekti always gets bored with these things and surely sooner or later the hunter will become boring, predictable, stupid slow-

Surely one of these days when Elekti has him pinned against a wall, they won’t want to taste him. Surely they’ll never be the one to die, and surely the night will always last forever, always on the edge of dawn, always moving towards the next fight or the next bar, always circling back to the hunter with the cool, clipped tones and eyes that never smile. 

After the eighth time, or maybe the ninth- who bothers counting these things?- Hydran comes in and finds her on the couch, attempting to give herself stitches on her outer thigh. 

“Hunter again?” he asks, and sighs. Good old Hydran with his exasperated looks and his steady hands- he sews up her thigh while Elekti tries very hard to hold still and not shock him when the sewing needle goes in. 

“Why don’t you just kill him already?” Hydran asks. 

(Hydran does not know about the second time, because if he knew how close Elekti came to death he would lecture her, and Elekti doesn’t care to be lectured. Hydran thinks that Elekti can just kill any human she chooses to kill, and Elekti’s not going to tell him otherwise. Hydran  _ worries. _ )

“I’m having so much fun,” Elekti says, and means it. Hydran gives her a Look.

“The whole apartment smells like blood. Your blood.”

“No it doesn’t,” Elekti whines. “He only nicked me this time. The knife didn’t even go all the way in.”

Hydran gives Elekti a look that says he thinks she’s insane, and finishes sewing up her leg. “At least wear leg armor instead of shorts,” he says. 

“What, and miss the chance to show off my legs?”

“What legs? They’re covered in bandages!”

“It’ll be fiiiiiiiine,” Elekti says, and it is fine. The night ticks on, beautiful and endless, and Elekti heals up and spends some time flopping around the apartment and annoying Hydran with loud music. Her leg stitches back together, and she doesn’t die, and if she catches a whiff of the hunter’s scent the night before a whole barracks of the border guard is killed in their sleep, no one has to know. 

The next time Elekti encounters Iandei, it’s at a trading post where humans sell their own kind to vampires, and every person in the building is dead except for the two of them. It’s a rough building, tucked beneath woods so thick Elekti can barely see the stars, and every inch of it stinks with the fear and misery of the slaves who are bought and sold here. Elekti amuses themselves hopping from dead body to dead body, tracing the path of blood that Iandei’s carved through the slavers. 

She finds him near the back of the building, folding a ledger into his jacket. Somehow, he’s always smaller when she finds him in real life than he is in her memories. Like a needle beneath your nails, he’s got a presence larger than his physical body. 

“Deidei!” she calls, and steps through the closest doorway and into nothing without so much as a backwards glance. Rude! 

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” Elekti calls, lightning beginning to flicker from their body. There’s something so satisfying about the feeling of static building in her body, the spin and roar of thunder ready to be let out. “I came all this way just to taste you!”

From behind, the sound of knives, the rustle of leather. Elekti dives to the side, catching a little nick on the ankle for her trouble. At the same time, from elsewhere in the room: “Go home.”

“Make me,” Elekti says. It’s her favorite phrase. You can walk into any club in the world and start a fistfight with just those two words. 

“No,” the hunter says. He’s crouches on a table, watching her with that flat, disinterested expression. “I’m here to kill slavers, not to play tag with you.”

“Aw, but I’m bo~ored, and besides, all these assholes are dead.” Elekti kicks a body to demonstrate the point. 

“There are more,” Iandei says, and then he jumps. Elekti calls it a jump, but it’s not really. A jump has lead-time, a rise, a fall. Iandei is just gone. There’s a small frisson of excitement every time Elekti sees him vanish- the small, masochistic pleasure of knowing she’s about to be surprised. 

There are footsteps outside, and then the sound of something crashing into a door. Elekti sticks her head out and finds a corpse crumpled against the wall, a knife jutting out from his neck. The body is still warm. Iandei’s nowhere to be seen. 

“Ugh!” Elekti says, frustrated. There are more slavers in the woods- she can hear them muttering to each other, saying stupid garbage. This is boring. This is a slap-fight with children, and Elekti can have those any day of the week, anytime she wants. She heads into the woods, crackling with lightning, and the slavers scatter. They’re loud. They crunch leaves as they run, filling the air with the sour scent of fear. 

Elekti can’t use her lightning in the forest- too many trees- but there are other ways of killing people. She picks a target and jumps. Branch, branch, log, target. Hammer. The slaver’s skull makes a satisfying crunch when it crumbles. There were five people when she came into the woods- now there are three. A wet, thick sound, and then one of the sources of heavy breathing goes silent. 

Two. 

Well, Elekti’s not going to let Iandei have all the fun. 

When Elekti heads out of the woods, her hammer is encrusted with bits of shattered skull and bone, and there’s not a sound she can hear. Iandei is one of those rare humans with the gift of being utterly silent- they must train hunters in how to breathe quietly. Humming, trailing lightning as she goes, Elekti heads back into the lonely little trading post. 

Iandei’s in the same back room, taking the ledgers and tucking them into his coat. 

“Don’t you have something more important to do?” Elekti sing-songs. 

“Like what?” 

“Dodging,” Elekti says, slamming their hammer into the ground with a roar of thunder that shakes the building. 

It’s a short fight. Close-quarters don’t favor Iandei, and there’s a lot of debris here, low-ceiling and cluttered floors, the carpets covered with corpses. It only costs Elekti a black eye and a slash across one forearm before she’s got Iandei on the ground and pinned between their thighs. Hydran would say to kill him, but Hydran’s a square who doesn’t know how to have fun. 

“You killed everyone, and now there’s no one left but you,” Elekti sing-songs. “Really, who else am I supposed to bite?”

“Didn’t you kill some of them?”

“Oh, I guess. Oops.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Iandei’s mouth. He doesn’t seem in the least bit worried to be on his back with Elekti straddling his hips, her hammer braced across his collarbones. Maybe he thinks he can be somewhere else. 

“How does your teleport work?” she asks. 

Iandei laughs. It’s not the first time she’s heard that short, sharp sound, but it always surprises her. Maybe it’s that Iandei seems like the kind of person who never laughs, or maybe it’s that Elekti’s opponents always stop smiling after the battle’s begun. 

“How does your lightning work?” he asks. 

“Like this,” Elekti says, and puts enough lightning into Iandei to make his eyes roll back in his head. While he’s paralyzed, they sneak one hand under his shirt- where does he keep all those knives?- and find warm skin. A single swipe of Elekti’s nails opens up his shirt, and under it Elekti gets their first real look at Iandei’s body. 

His skin is warm and dark and strangely even, unmarked by the bright tattoos that decorate so many of the underground city’s inhabitants. His only decorations are scars, some new and pearly, some old and faded. There’s the history of a hundred fights etched into his skin, and Elekti traces it with more than a little interest. Iandei’s partially unconscious, but it won’t last too long, and once he’s fully awake, Elekti won’t be able to touch him like this. 

“Like what you see?” Iandei asks. His breathing didn’t hitch when he came back into consciousness- everything about him is so quiet. He’s a closed box of a man, and Elekti wants to crack him open and see what’s inside. 

“I’m not done looking yet,” Elekti tells him, and finishes slicing open his shirt.

“I have to say, this is the most effort I’ve seen anyone put into getting me shirtless.”

“What effort? You’re easy.”

Iandei kicks her in the face. There’s a deafening snap, and Elekti feels their nose break. Pain floods their system, their vision gone blurry with pain. Through the red haze, they spot Iandei scrambling away from them, a nasty smile on his face. 

“I liked that shirt.”

Elekti pounces on him. They smack his head into the wall with a loud crunch. It feels good, so she does it again. And again. On the third swing they spot the knife too late, and shriek as it intersects the junction of their wrist. In the moment when she reels back and reaches for her hammer, Iandei’s gone. 

“I’m not done with you,” Elekti shouts, grabbing her hammer with her uninjured wrist, rage building in her chest like a thundercloud. She charges into the next room, bringing the storm with her as she goes. Iandei is caught for half a second, electricity dancing across his duster, and then he’s gone. Elekti chases again, howling with rage, overflowing with lightning, room after room, dodging and ducking until at last she draws close enough to catch him in a breathless tackle.

Iandei goes sprawling onto the ground, flat on his back, Elekti between his legs. 

They get one arm around his neck and squeeze until they can feel Iandei’s pulse shuddering against their fingers like a caged bird, and with the other hand they fish the ledger out of his jacket and toss it over their shoulder. 

They’re going to fuck him up, and they’re going to enjoy every second of it. 

“You can run if you want,” Elekti spits, drawing close to him. “You can hide, you can vanish, you can try all your little tricks, but I’ll still find you!” Elekti’s body is hot with electric fury; lightning crackles in the hollows of their limbs. Every inhales, aching breath tastes of blood from their broken nose, and still Iandei watches impassively. 

The look on his face makes Elekti feel insane, like they’re the one who’s lost all control, like they’re the one lying on their back with a hand around their neck. Lightning emanates from them in blinding bursts of crackling static, building towards a strike that will shake the heavens. 

“Go ahead and run! I’ll fuck! You! Up!” 

Lightning arches down from the sky with a sound like thunder, shaking the whole cabin. Blinding electricity races through the room, scarring the wood as it passes. Iandei has flickered away, but he’s got to come back. The instant Iandei flickers back into existence Elekti is on them, face buried in the side of their neck. 

Iandei’s whole body jerks. Does it feel good to him to have Elekti’s fangs buried in his neck? It feels incredible for Elekti. Every little gasp and shudder she wrings from his body feels like a victory. She drinks until Iandei’s breath is coming in rough little gasps, then wrenches her nose back into place, feeling the pain recede and begin to fade away. Iandei hurt her. Iandei can pay in blood. 

She kisses him, savoring the press of his weight, the rhythm of his breath, the warm proximity of his skin. Even now, even bloodied and pinned and half-choked, Iandei has the poise to bite Elekti’s lower lip. 

“You’re a real bastard,” Elekti murmurs, kissing him. 

“You’re fucking insane.”

Elekti shocks him as they kiss, and abruptly there’s the cold shock of a knife against their skin. Their shirt shreds open, and Elekti’s chest is suddenly bare to the warm night air of the surface. 

“Oh, did you want to unwrap me too?” Elekti says, laughing. The buzzing fury in their head has transmuted into satisfaction- Elekti can forgive Iandei for anything if she gets to taste him afterwards. She lowers her head to his neck again, lapping at the blood that overflowed, and amuses herself leaving a hickey on that warm dark skin. 

Iandei’s breath hitches again, and Elekti grabs his wrists, pins them to the wall. It’s never really possible to pin Iandei, of course, but it’s fun to pretend. Even if he’ll be somewhere else in an instant, he’s here now. No matter how stoic he is the face of pain, he opens up so nicely when Elekti kisses him. 

“Bitch,” he murmurs when they part. He’s panting, his breath rising and falling in heaving gasps, his bare chest exposed, wide chest leading down to a narrow waist and the curve of his hips. All that clean, smooth skin is just begging to be roughed up. Iandei directs her attention upwards with the flick of a knife under her throat, tilting her chin up. 

“Did you have to ruin my shirt?” he asks. Oh, he can try to stay cool, but there’s a scorching look in his eyes, just how Elekti likes it. More fun to play that way.

“You broke my nose!” Elekti whines. 

“I can’t imagine why I would do that.”

“Unfriendly,” Elekti says, licking his blood off her teeth. When Iandei laughs, she can feel the way his body shifts, his chest rising and falling. Even quiet humans are so loud. 

“I’m working.”

“Oooh, so professional.” Elekti laughs. “You can’t tell me you do this for a salary? That’s boring.”

Iandei’s response is a flicked gesture of one wrist that scores a thin line across Elekti’s neck. It’s the lightest flick, just barely enough to score the skin, a show of precision that’s more dangerous than any force could be. Elekti bats the knife away. 

“I’m starting to think you like making me bleed,” she says. 

“I think it’s the other way around.”

Elekti’s injured wrist is aching, spilling blood down their arm and into their jacket, making everything wet and sticky. They jam their fingers into Iandei’s mouth, uncaring of his attempts to bite with his dull, human teeth. The blood from their injured wrist runs into his mouth, smearing prettily across his dark skin, and Elekti’s whole body is hot with hunger. She wants more, more, more. 

“You want some blood? Here you go!” they jeer, and Iandei knees them in the stomach. They go from the wall to the ground. They roll. For a moment Elekti can barely tell where their limbs end and his begin, and then Iandei is beneath them again, and his knife is flat against their neck. They bite each other, kissing like vampires kiss, bleeding into each other, Elekti’s hips grinding down into Iandei. 

They slam his head into the floor and hold it there with their good arm, and with the other arm they pick up a knife. It’s a slim, dense thing, edged with silver and designed to hurt, the sort of weapon designed to slice through bone and skin to the heart beneath. Elekti lays the tip over Iandei’s heart, just barely touching the skin. They trail it over him like a caress, scoring a thin line over the ridges of his stomach and down to the hinge of his hips. 

“Don’t you have your own toys?” Iandei says, and the knife is gone- or rather, it’s in his hand, held carefully between two fingers. 

“You should share,” Elekti says. They lower their mouth to the thin scratch along Iandei’s stomach and lick. When they glance upwards, Iandei’s eyes are fixed on her like a dare, and Elekti loves dares. Elekti loves the pleasure of doing what people think they won’t. 

“Are you going to run?” she asks. 

“That depends. What are you going to do?”

Elekti winks and palms the front of Iandei’s jeans. He inhales sharply, but he doesn’t vanish. He’s still here, warm under Elekti’s touch. 

“Is that what you’re into?”

“You must be into it too,” Elekti says, grinning. Iandei is hard- Elekti can feel it through his jeans. They lean down, grinding their palm against Iandei’s dick through his jeans, and kiss him with the knife against their neck. Bad choices, bad decisions, stupid ideas- Elekti’s favorite pasttime. 

Iandei bites Elekti’s lower lip, and in retaliation they bite his neck, then his shoulder, then his bicep, leaving marks on the perfect round curve of his chest muscle. Elekti slides their tongue over the little drops of blood that well up, and Iandei shudders. His hand catches in her hair, forcing her neck up, and he bites her. The absolute audacity of this blunt-toothed bitch- Elekti would be furious if it didn’t feel so damn good. Iandei bites hard enough that Elekti can feel a bruise forming, and then he sucks enough to make Elekti shudder and dig their nails into the ground. 

Motherfucker. Somehow everything about Iandei makes Elekti feel like they’re about to go feral, like every cell in their body is starving to fuck him up. An idea occurs to them, and they sit up. They press their forehead against his, leveraging every extra inch of height they have, and then they draw back. They pop the top button off his jeans. 

“You know,” Elekti says conversationally. “I’ve never fucked a human.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

So cold! Elekti shocks him, just a little bit, but Iandei doesn’t even react. He just watches her, eyes fixed on her in a kind of wordless dare, lips set into something that isn’t quite a snarl. What an audience! Elekti looks right back, holds eye contact as she slides down her shorts and underwear. It’s a pussy out kind of night.

For once, Iandei doesn’t seem to have a comeback. Elekti traces the shape of his dick through his pants, waiting for something, anything. An attack, a reaction, a comment. She slips her fingers under the hem of his boxers and pulls down his pants. 

Nice. 

They look at each other, and even now, Elekti can’t read his face. 

“Last chance to ru-un,” she singsongs. 

A mean little smile cuts across the bottom of Iandei’s mouth. He gets one hand in her hair and yanks. He kisses her as they press together, and Elekti feels the way his breath hitch when she reaches back to line up his cock. Both of them moan when she sinks down on him, bottoming out with a bounce of her hips that makes her shudder and gasp, open-mouthed. 

Humans are so warm. Elekti wasn’t kidding when she said she’d never fucked one before. Every motion of Iandei’s cock has her toes curling, thighs tense, whole body tight and shuddering. 

“This is so fucked up,” Iandei says, and he sounds almost dazed, as if he’s just realized what they’re doing. 

“So stop me then,” Elekti says with a breathless laugh. Iandei does not stop her. Iandei slides one warm, dark hand onto her thigh, holding her in place, and moves in a way that Elekti feels with every nerve in her body. She rocks back onto him, desperate for just a little more friction, more contact, more, more, more-

Just-

Just like that. 

“Fuck!” Iandei says, and Elekti laughs, a little breathlessly. 

“Yeah,” she says, and digs her nails into his shoulders, just a little. “Yeah, that’s-  _ uuh _ .  _ Ah _ \- fuck. Do that again.”

“Make me,” Iandei says. This time when they kiss it’s mostly friction, open-mouthed and sloppy, both of them shuddering in time to the rhythm of Elekti’s hips. Elekti can’t think. Every time Iandei slides in, there’s this delicious friction that feels exactly like nothing else, and it’s driving them mad. 

Iandei slides their hips forward and then just stays there, and every nerve in Elekti’s body announces sudden, maddening overload. 

“Bastard,” Elekti says when they recover enough to make words. “Move!”

Iandei laughs in their face, and Elekti pounces. They pin him by the wrists, ignoring the scream of their injured wrist, and grind down. They’re so close, if they could just get just a little more friction, a better angle, just a little more-

Iandei slaps them across the face, hard, and Elekti groans. Pain or pleasure, it’s all the same, everything jumbled together in a tangled mess of sensation that has Elekti’s breath coming in short, sharp gasps. 

“Come on, you fucker-” Elekti says. There’s a disorienting moment of movement, and then Elekti is flat on their back, their skull bouncing against the floor with a crack. Iandei is kneeling over them, and Elekti is half-tempted to kick him in the dick, but they’re definitely not going to get to come tonight if they do that. 

Iandei grabs Elekti and flips them over, and fuck if it doesn’t make Elekti hot to be so casually mishandled. Their head is still ringing from crashing into the floor, light-headed and hungry, slick between their thighs, ready to do anything if it’ll get Iandei’s body back on them. 

“Hurry up before I lose my patience and fuck you until you cry,” Elekti theatens. In response, Iandei shoves two gloved fingers inside of them. He’s rough, and when he curls his fingers it feels like lightning down Elekti’s spine. 

The cold line of a knife presses against Elekti’s neck, forcing them to arch their neck up. Could Elekti get away without having their throat slit? They don’t know, and they don’t give a fuck. They’re having fun. 

When Iandei sides into them again, they shock him, just a little. It’s impossible not to. Every thrust, every motion sends shudders of pleasure through their body, and they’re leaking noise and lightning, not caring who hears them. 

The knife cuts into their neck just a little, forcing them to arch upwards, and Iandei is finally, finally, setting the relentless, pounding pace that Elekti wants, and their fingers are digging into the floorboard, casting off enough lightning to melt the varnish, trying not to shock Iandei because they don’t want to throw off his rhythm, they want- they want-

Iandei slides down Elekti’s jacket and bites their bare shoulder, and Elekti comes. Iandei fucks them through their orgasm, rough and fast and punishingly hard, just like Elekti likes it, and then even that is lost to the shocking, overwhelming tide of pleasure. 

When Elekti comes back to themselves, Iandei is still fucking them. Oversensitive and light-headed, they try to move away, but Iandei grabs them by the hips and shoves himself in, finishing with a muffled groan. Elekti can feel his dick moving inside of them as he comes, and it makes them shudder, their arms threatening to give out entirely. 

“Fuck!” Iandei says, and it’s the angriest she’s heard them yet. Elekti’s body is tremblingly tender and over-sensitive, and it feels like a bolt of lightning when he slides out of them. They can feel cum on their thighs, and the damn knife is still at their neck. Elekti snatches it out of Iandei’s hand and tosses it into the corner, and then flops over onto their stomach, heaving for breath. 

She and Iandei look at each other. Pants around his knees, dick still half-hard, shoulder and neck covered with bite marks, Iandei looks like something from one of Hydran’s porn comics, and also like he’s been dragged behind a car. 

“Look at you,” Elekti says, half breathless. He’s so handsome, so ridiculous, his pretty mouth all smeared with blood, his bare skin framed by her pale thighs. He’s never looked so wounded, not even when she snapped his arm. It’s a good look.. Long, slim jaw, bloodied mouth, bare, bruised skin, wounded and dawningly furious around the eyes, every inch of him is a trophy to Elekti’s victory.

“You,” he says, and Elekti kisses him, just because she can. She wraps her hand around his long braid and pulls, and tastes her own blood in his mouth.

“Why?” he says, and Elekti can’t tell whether he’s talking to her or to himself. 

“Why not?” she says, laughing. “We’re having so much  _ fun. _ ”

His face goes cold and closed and between one moment and the rest, he’s across the room grabbing the slaver’s ledger, and then he’s gone. Elekti lets him go. The house of the dead is silent around them, waiting for new bodies, and Elekti’s body is warm with blood and the promise of a fun new game. 

***

🔥hydran

my flatmate is at it again 

tsun latte

the hot one? what did they do this time?

🔥hydran

i only have one flatmate

the whole flat smells like blood and sex and i’m pretty sure they fucked a human

it wouldn’t even be that bad if it was just fucking a human but i think they fucked a vampire hunter since their nose and wrist are both broken 

who does that 

tsun latte 

that’s fucking wild

can you open a window or something to get rid of the smell?

🔥hydran

it’s so loud in here when the window is open

Tsun latte

Unfortunate… : (

Do you want to come over?

I’m sorry your flatmate is such a chad

🔥hydran

you’re not helping 

**Author's Note:**

> Relevant worldbuilding notes, stolen from pH5_4:
> 
> Elekti has something in their fangs that makes people enjoy it when she bites them.  
> Vampires only die if their hearts are removed from their body and then destroyed. Pretty much everything else, they can come back from.


End file.
